What Transpired
by DarthGrammar
Summary: Every child in Kleindeutschland- Little Germany, the English called it- knew who Old Man Gabor was. Almost every evening, the children would gather on the front stoop of his store. And he would tell them stories. A oneshot set in 1940s New York.


A/N: My first published fanfiction in four years. Well, here goes nothing. A side historical note: this fanfiction is set in the modern-day Alphabet City neighborhood of Manhattan, which was a German ethnic enclave in the early twentieth century. I have taken some liberties with the historical facts and pretended that the neighborhood's ethnic composition survived through the 1940's. For any readers familiar with the various actors who have played the roles of Melchior, Wendla, and Moritz in the musical, I wrote this fanfiction with the portrayals of Jake Epstein, Christy Altomare, and Taylor Trensch specifically in mind. Just another side note, I suppose.

Disclaimer: It belongs to Wedekind, Sater, and Sheik. Not me, or I'd probably have spared Wendla.

New York City

1947

Every child in Kleindeutschland- Little Germany, the English called it- knew who Old Man Gabor was. He ran the most peculiar business on the edge of the park; he sold German candies, for the children, and books, for the parents and grandparents. He had no wife to adore, no children to lovingly scold, and no grandchildren to coddle, but he could be heard saying many a time that the people living in Kleindeutschland were his family. He had a sharp eye, in spite of his seventy-one years, and could spot a naughty child stealing candy from a long way away. (None of the children knew precisely how far, only that it was a very long way.) He would help to teach the parents who had just come to America a little bit of English- enough for them to get by. He- rather famously- did not go to church and outright refused to even consider attending Sunday services. He would point the parents of the children who performed poorly in school to the best tutors; he always said that it was a crime to expel children from school, but he never said why. And almost every evening, the children of Kleindeutschland would gather on the front stoop of his store.

And Old Man Gabor would tell the children stories.

He told them about growing up in Deutschland, about how he and his friends would play pirates after school every day (usually, some of the little ones would scamper off to do just that as he finished speaking). He told them about leaving for America just before the Great War began- about how he had been seasick every morning on the long boat trip over (the youngest children there would laugh; the oldest would grimace, some of them having made that voyage). He told them about his dear friends Anna and Georg, who had courageously and covertly hid maybe hundreds of Jews and delivered them to safety in England, and who eventually had to flee themselves. For hours, he would tell stories, occasionally stopping to help a customer or to gently press a sheet of candy buttons into the hand of a child who had fallen and scraped its knee.

The children wondered if Old Man Gabor ever became bored with his everyday life. Nothing happened to him that was out of the ordinary. Until the day he caught Hannah Fischer and Lukas Keller kissing in the back of his shop.

They were both fifteen, they had both been born in America, and he- that is, Old Man Gabor- had known them since they were babies. When he cleared his throat, they sprang apart- the guilt was etched on their faces, and they could only look at the floor. He chuckled and waved them up the stairs. The two youths glanced at each other nervously as they walked up the staircase, awaiting some great and formidable punishment- Old Man Gabor simply reached into a dresser drawer, pulled out a few worn photographs, and walked in between Hannah and Lukas.

He held up a photograph of a young woman, sighed, and began to speak. "This is a girl I loved very much." Hannah looked up at Old Man Gabor, and then at Lukas- in spite of her confusion, she sensed the gravity of what he was telling them, and tears began to fill her eyes. Old Man Gabor continued, "Her name was Wendla Bergmann, and I knew her my whole life. She was beautiful, and good, and kind, and strong- she had compassion for all living things, and she did not hesitate to defend whom she thought she should defend. We loved in a time when it was not easy." He paused. "She died. As did my best friend-" he turned to the next picture, of a short but gangly boy- "Moritz Stiefel. An awkward boy, yes, but earnest and hard-working. He shot himself after he was expelled from school."

Lukas started. "So that's why you say it's wrong to expel students-"

"Yes, my boy, it is."

"How did the girl die? Wendla?"

Old Man Gabor's shoulders slumped a little. "Lukas, Hannah, what I am about to ask you is something that your parents would think very improper- do you know how women come to bear children?"

Hannah blushed. "My mamma will only say that I will learn from my husband… but Marianna Schmidt has told me that it involves-" the poor girl looked like she would quite like to melt away- "the places between our legs touching." She blushed further, undoubtedly at the remembrance of her indiscretion. Lukas looked at the floorboards intently and murmured, "I know how. I read it in a book last year."

Old Man Gabor laughed again- and again, they did not know why. Quickly becoming somber, he said, "Wendla and I had intercourse-" at the horrified looks on the children's faces, he smiled wryly. "Forgive me, I forget that you are not accustomed to such language… Wendla was going to have a child. Her mother found out, and took her to someone who would… fix the situation. She died because of it."

Hannah began to cry. Lukas stepped around Old Man Gabor, and grasped her hand. The elder man gestured towards a couch, upon which they sat. He sighed heavily. "Do you know why I told you about these two people?" Hannah and Lukas looked at him blankly, and Lukas finally stammered, "So- so that we don't make the same mistakes?"

"Ah, no, my dear boy! This is no cautionary tale about what you feel for one another. I don't wish to scare you- I simply want you both to know that your bodies and your minds are changing, and you must be aware of that. Trust your minds, and more importantly, trust your hearts. Can you imagine what this world might be like if parents trusted their children to make good and informed decisions? Wouldn't that be remarkable?"

Lukas and Hannah looked at one another intently, unable to formulate an answer. Old Man Gabor continued, "Hannah, Lukas, you are the first people I have spoken to of my old friends Moritz and Wendla. I have carried them with me for many years now, and I shall until the day I leave this world. I ask you to do the same. I have watched you both grow from small children; I see the good people you have become. I ask you to remember that once I was a young man, much like you." He nodded to Lukas. "And long ago, I had two people I loved, who loved me. I trust you to carry them as a part of you."

Looking at the two children, Old Man Gabor could easily see that they did not feign interest in his story, nor did they distrust it as the simple fable of an old man. He smiled. "Thank you. If you come back tomorrow evening, I shall tell you more."

It was an implicit dismissal, and the youths took it as such. Looking at their retreating bodies, listening to their murmured and reverent thanks, the wizened old man knew that they would only speak of it to each other. He had chosen two brave and trustworthy young people to whom he could bequeath his memories of Wendla and Moritz.

And a part of Melchior Gabor's own self- a part that had been seared open fifty-six years ago- continued to heal.


End file.
